


hate the sin, love  the sinner

by CyrusBreeze



Series: The Other 51 [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demisexual Character, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Smut, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: Take me to churchI'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your liesI'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knifeOffer me that deathless deathGood God, let me give you my life-Take Me to Church, HozierHow Thomas Jefferson fell in love with Alexander Hamilton and learned to accept himself.(Can be read as a stand-alone fic or in conjunction with you simply must meet thomas, thoMAS.)





	hate the sin, love  the sinner

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was brought to you by writing porn in my English class (which now has an official laptop ban), chocolate cookie butter, cornstarch (and PICA!), and an entire medium Domino’s pizza. 
> 
> So this writing was most carthatic to me, because, even four years after being out and accepting myself, I still struggle with my identity. 
> 
> There’s a few elements I wanted to point out. This fic is still set in 2002, only a few weeks really after the first thomas centric fic. The term demisexual isn’t really around so Thomas identifies as being on the ace-spec. 
> 
> Also, fun fact, I have a relationship mind map for my polycule and on it, Thomas and Alex have a primarily sexual relationship with few romantic aspects. As of right now, I’m going to revise that because some “I love you’s” managed to sneak their way into this without my consent. 
> 
> Also, I didnt exactly explain the polycule here but rest assured that you will get Alex’s POV soon and you will get to see how Eliza and John react to their boy’s developing relationship. 
> 
> Oh yeah, and I decided to play with Jefferson’s religion. I did some research into his religion (not just for this fic. I’m writing a paper involving him for my history class). Apparently he wasn’t an atheist but rather a deist who had really ambiguous beliefs about God and that whole shebang. Still, having been raised in organized religion, going to church purely out of habit really resignated with me, so I wrote that into Thomas. (Also, going to church because you won the evangelical vote seems like a very politician thing to do). 
> 
> As far as triggers: big, big warning for internalized homophobia, organized religion, and the use of the word queer in the slur context. There’s also a blink and you’ll miss it reference to conversion therapy. Oh, and implied acephobia. 
> 
> Anyway, if you read all that, thank you. But without further ado, enjoy the story! 
> 
> PS: I fucking suck at writing smut but the only way to get better is through practice. Please don’t judge.
> 
> Update: The italic formatting of the song lyrics seems to had fucked up and idk why.
> 
> Update 13MAR2018: I forget to mention that Ravensworth is a real church in the DC metro that officially became open and affirming in 2006! Typically churches like these are unofficially open and affirming for a few years prior, which is why I made Thomas attend.

_My lover's got humour_  
He's the giggle at a funeral  
Knows everybody's disapproval  
I should've worshipped him sooner 

Thomas was not gay; it was okay if he was, but he wasn’t. His therapist and he had talked about it. He was on the asexual spectrum, not necessarily attracted to people, male or female, but there were anomalies. 

Anomalies like dark hair and brown, eager eyes and a work ethic like no other. Anomalies like Alexander Hamilton. There had been others, Thomas realized: a female former staff member when stunning green eyes and bright red hair, a junior high crush on a varsity football player, others. But he felt something for Hamilton that threatened to overwhelm him.

Hamilton flirted relentlessly, which made Thomas question if he was even faithful in his marriage. Thomas wasn’t keen on breaking up a marriage, especially because he wasn’t keen on coming out, not now and probably not ever. But by god did Hamilton’s flirting do things to him. 

He found himself spending nights in the shower, jerking off to the thought of fucking Hamilton, of claiming him, marking him. He wanted to learn Hamilton’s body, his quirks, and by God, his kinks. 

But Thomas would have to settle. He didn’t make a habit of screwing staff members, or anyone for that matter, and he had no idea if Hamilton was even queer, so his imagination would have to work for now.

 _If the Heavens ever did speak  
He is the last true mouthpiece_

Hamilton was extremely passionate about everything he talked about. Whether it was the ethics of sodomy laws and consensual sex amongst adults or why 2Amy’s had the best pizza in the DC metro. 

Thomas could watch Hamilton talk for hours. The man was brilliant, and it was no wonder how he had managed to get into one of the most prestigious Ivy League’s in the nation. 

It was in the way his lips moved, his hands flew when he spoke, the way that his body language could tell an entirely different story. Hamilton was a born politician. He was abrasive, in the way that most DC politicians weren’t. He didn’t care about political parties or etiquette or stepping on people’s toes. His primary motivation was the people, and the people would vote him into office because of that.

Hamilton wasn’t one for schmoozing up to other politicians, even one he was working for. In fact, he regularly called Thomas out on his bullshit, attacked Thomas’s arguments from every angle, forced Thomas to find a new solution to a problem. 

Thomas could imagine him on the campaign trail, shaking hands and holding babies and volunteering with foster children and then turning around and destroying his opponent in a debate. 

He would be a star, Thomas knew.

But for Thomas, the man felt like the sun. 

_Every Sunday's getting more bleak_  
A fresh poison each week  
'We were born sick, ' you heard them say it 

He was fourteen when he first learned about gay people. His father had been listening to the news about Proposition 6 and he went on a long tirade about how wrong and awful and deviant these men were, how he was glad that sodomy was illegal in Virginia, and how they had no business teaching children. 

Thomas agreed. After all, he was not gay, but he hated looking at the Playboy magazines that his brother gave him. He had no interest in women.

“Are you queer?” His dad asked one day after Thomas had come home from college five years after he had first learned about gay people.

Thomas shook his head fiercely.

“Then why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” Dad asked. 

“No one has caught my eye,” Thomas responded, avoiding his dad’s gaze entirely. It was the truth. No one, not man or woman, had stirred anything inside of him. 

“If you are,” his dad continued, his voice surprisingly compassionate. “It’s not your fault that you’re sick. There are places, that you can go to, and they’ll fix you.” 

“I’m not gay,” Thomas fired off. 

And his dad left him alone after that. 

It made him oddly glad that his father had passed away five years ago and that he wouldn't live to see Thomas lusting after a man. 

_My church offers no absolutes  
He tells me 'worship in the bedroom'_

Thomas attended church. He wasn’t particularly religious, not attached to any diety or particular set of rules, but he knew, or hoped rather, that something existed that was bigger than life on earth.

He was born and raised a southern Baptist who had won the evangelical vote. It was only fair that he was photographed a time or two leaving church. He had, after discussing it with his therapist left his extremely homophobic church and had settled for one that was more open. 

Although the church he attended, Ravensworth Baptist, did not openly affirm the LGBT community, it was clear that a portion of his church family was LGBT. He relished in the fact that he felt loved and supported at church, even if no one knew that he wasn’t straight. His girls benefited from it too. Thomas hadn’t attended church with them since their mother passed away. They usually went with the neighbor, but he found something comforting in getting his two girls dressed in the morning and letting them attend youth service while he went to Bible study. 

If there were questions amongst congregation members as to why an Republican Senator was attending a church that was all but open and affirming, no one said anything to Thomas.

Thomas attended church halfway out of habit and halfway out of something more. It was nice, for once, not to bristle when the pastor mentioned homosexuality. It was nice, for once, to have found a place where he felt he belonged. 

_The only heaven I'll be sent to_  
Is when I'm alone with you  
I was born sick, but I love it  
Command me to be well  
Amen, Amen, Amen 

Thomas invited Hamilton to his house for wine and dinner. He knew what it implied: inviting his intern to his home for wine, his intern that he had spent the past six weeks flirting with.

And forget butterflies, it made him feel like there was a crow fluttering in his stomach, flapping and gnawing at his insides in an attempt to be free. 

Hamilton came over in a pair of jeans that made his ass look _stunning_ and a t-shirt that Thomas wanted to strip off.

He had made his speciality: homemade macaroni and cheese and mixed vegetables. He tried to focus during dinner, but he found himself distracted by the way that the red wine wet Hamilton’s gorgeous lips, the way that Hamilton spoke passionately about the bill that Thomas was considering co-sponsoring, the way that Hamilton moaned when he took his first bite of macaroni and cheese. 

Thomas could not deny that Hamilton was doing _things_ to him, things that made his cock more hard and tight than it had been in years, perhaps even ever. 

After dinner, they washed dishes together and it was surprisingly intimate, side by side in the soapy water, their hands “accidentally” brushing every so often. 

Thomas put on a movie afterward. It was in French, so he put the subtitles on and muted it. He spent the remainder of the movie just watching Hamilton’s commentary.

_Take me to church_  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life 

Hamilton kissed him that evening, hard and fast and rough. 

“Your wife,” Thomas breathed out when Hamilton pulled away. 

“She knows,” Hamilton confirmed, pressing another kiss to Thomas’s lips. 

It was all the permission Thomas needed. He didn’t need to know how or why Hamilton’s wife knew, or if Hamilton was gay, or anything. The only thing he wanted to focus on was Hamilton’s lips on his. 

In a way, it was Thomas’s first time: his first time in the driver’s seat, in complete control. He and his therapist had talked about it, about him taking control of his sex life, of him learning to take control of his sexuality. 

He loved being in control, being the one to make Hamilton moan and keen, being responsible for the bright red bruise on the base of Hamilton’s collarbone. He enjoyed pulling Hamilton apart, watching his composure slip. 

Thomas wanted, no, he needed this. He removed Hamilton’s shirt, and then Hamilton removed Thomas’s own. And it was tongue and teeth again, and Hamilton was sucking hickeys on Thomas’s neck, and it was good. It felt good.

Hamilton’s hands traveled to the waistband of Thomas’s sweatpants, and Thomas froze, unable to move, unable to breathe. 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t. “Stop,” he said sharply, and Hamilton moved his hands away immediately, and Thomas was shocked that he didn’t have to say it a second time. With his other partners, his college girlfriend, he had to repeat it over and over again, pleading with her to stop. She had gone home crying, unable to figure out why Thomas didn’t want to have sex with her. 

“Are you okay?” Hamilton asked as Thomas struggled to catch his breath, sucking in huge gulps of oxygen. To him, it sounded as if he was hyperventilating. 

“I’m not ready,” Thomas said. “I don’t think I can.” 

“It’s okay,” Hamilton’s tone was comforting and strong and it dragged Thomas’s world back into focus. 

“I’m sorry, I just, I,” Thomas stuttered. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Hamilton said. “Seriously, Jefferson, I understand. Perhaps we shouldn’t compromise ourselves and our work ethic.”

“It’s not that,” Thomas said. “It’s, I haven’t had sex in almost 10 years.” At his admission, Thomas’s face burned.

“Your wife,” Hamilton began, but he trailed off when the realization dawned on him.

“She was my beard,” Thomas said candidly. “I loved her, but only as my best friend.”

“Are you gay?” Hamilton asked. 

At the word, Thomas still flinched. He wasn’t gay, and there was nothing wrong with being gay even if he was. He would have to work on that. “I’m not gay, but I’m not necessarily straight either. I’m bisexual, I guess.” Thomas had grown more comfortable with identifying with that term. “But I’m kind of asexual, I guess. It typically takes me a while to experience sexual attraction to someone.” 

“Okay,” Hamilton said, as if Thomas’s confession wasn’t a big deal. 

He had expected some sort of explosion, anger for leading Hamilton on. 

“I’m bisexual too,” Hamilton said. “If you were wondering.”

“And your wife?” Thomas asked. It wasn’t exactly something Thomas wanted to know. He knew that Hamilton had a family, and Thomas did not want to destroy that.

“Our relationship is open, per se,” Hamilton said. “So long as we have permission, we re free to pursue extramarital relationships. I don’t make a habit of it though,” Hamilton continued. “It doesn’t bode well for my career.” 

Thomas gave a small smile at that. Then, he kissed Hamilton softly. “And how does this bode for your career?” He teased.

Hamilton kissed him back, hard. “It doesn’t bode well, not at all.”

_If I'm a pagan of the good times  
My lover's the sunlight_

He kept seeing Hamilton after that. They usually spent several nights a week together. August was coming far too quickly and with it, the end of Hamilton’s internship, the end of _this_.

Thomas loved seeing the hickeys and bruises that he left on Hamilton’s neck, how he carefully covered them with makeup. 

He watched Hamilton with more intensity, found himself jerking off in his private bathroom whenever Hamilton got too fired up about a topic. 

Hamilton was a political rising star. Thomas knew one when he saw it. And by god, did Hamilton burn like the fucking sun.

 

_To keep God on my side_  
He demands a sacrifice  
To drain the whole sea  
Get something shiny  
Something meaty for the main course 

“You should tell your daughters,” Hamilton said one evening. Said daughters were at the house in McLean with the nanny. They had spent the night at Thomas’s apartment in DC the night prior, and they had run into Hamilton when he had come in the morning to drop off paperwork. 

“I should.. What?” Thomas stared at Hamilton. 

“Mattie asked if I was your boyfriend,” Hamilton said. “I think they know that something is up.” 

“Shit,” Thomas whispered. 

“It’s a good thing, I think,” Hamilton reassured him. “Mattie said that you were happier.”  
Thomas’s heart ached. His twelve year old was concerned about his well being, but it begged the bigger question. If his twelve year old was perceptive enough to know that he had a… lover, who else would notice?

“You should tell them,” Hamilton repeated. “Thomas, I don’t want to be a secret. I understand that it’s necessary for the public, but I don’t want to be a secret to the people that matter to you.” 

“I love you,” Thomas said. And then he froze. It had felt so natural. He had not said that to anyone, not in the romantic since, in well, ever. 

Hamilton blinked at him. 

“It’s okay,” Thomas attempted to amend. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was-” 

“I love you too,” Hamilton blurted. 

“Oh, God,” Thomas muttered, and he suddenly felt the weight of what he had done. He had just professed his love for another man.

He told the girls the next weekend. He sat both of them down and then tugged at his fingers, listening again for the _pop pop pop_. It had been awhile since he had reverted to that tick, but there it was again.

“I have a boyfriend,” he told them, because it was easier than explaining the asexuality spectrum and bisexuality to a twelve and ten year old. 

“I knew it!” Mattie said triumphantly, pumping a fist in the air. 

Thomas smiled at that, and then he turned to his younger daughter. She looked sad. 

“What about mom?” She asked.

Thomas and Martha had managed to dodge this conversation for the majority of their marriage. It was clear they weren’t like other Mommies and Daddies. They never kissed, they slept in separate rooms, and they were never affectionate with each other, at least not in a way that could be seen as romantic. 

“I loved, love, your mom,” Thomas choked out. He stood up, and them sandwiched himself between his two daughters on the couch. “She was my best friend, and she’s the reason I have two amazing, incredible daughters. She’s the reason I have you guys.” He hugged Lucy and Mattie.

“But you don’t love her like you love your boyfriend?” Lucy prodded

It was less like an accusation and more like a genuinely curious question. He didn’t want to answer and ruin their views of their mother, but he wanted to tell the truth. “You can love people in different ways, Lucy-Bug,” he tried to explain. “I loved your mom a lot because she was my best friend and I could tell her anything or ask her advice on anything and she would give it to me. But I love my boyfriend differently.” 

“Okay,” Lucy said. She curled up against Jefferson’s side. “I love you, daddy.” 

“I love you too, Lucy-Bug, and you Mattie-Mae.” He squeezed both of his girls tightly. 

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Mattie said. 

“Me too,” Jefferson agreed. 

The two people who mattered most in his life knew, and that, that made his heart feel lighter than air.  
_That's a fine looking high horse  
What you got in the stable?_

The news of Tazewell broke on a Friday. The 63 year old two term Senator had audio tapes released of his phone calls to a gay sex hotline. 

Thomas locked the door to his office and he cried. He was careful to cover his tracks, careful because that just as easily could have been him who was exposed. If a staffer caught wind of how close he and Hamilton were, or if, God forbid, someone had bugged his phone or his home. 

He was terrified. The Tazewell situation had hit far too close to home. He knew that Tazewell had made himself a target when he co-sponsored the bill to make same sex marriage illegal, but Thomas wondered how long he would be safe, how long he could hide behind his track record of quasi progressive bills before they came for him too. He could come out as a supporter of the LGBT community, as someone who believed that the government had no place in people’s bedroom, that marriage was an institution for tax purposes, but even that was too radical. Even his democrat counterparts were getting voted out over similar policies. 

Politics had been his crutch for as long as he could remember. He had no idea what he would return to if he lost that because of his sexuality; law, probably, if he could bear to show his face in his home state again. 

He exhaled sharply. He wasn’t going to be ashamed of who he was, not anymore. He wasn’t going to be out, per se, but he refused to give up the one relationship in his life where he had felt unconditionally accepted because of politics. If he lost his seat in the Senate because of it. Well, he would figure things out.

_We've a lot of starving faithful_  
That looks tasty  
That looks plenty  
This is hungry work 

Like most good things in life, it started with wine. They weren’t drunk, but it was enough to take the edge off. 

Thomas found that Hamilton had an appreciation for French movies, having grown up in Louisiana, so he turned on another one, subtitles off. 

It was a gay movie, one he had taken a risk in purchasing offline from overseas, but he was trying to become more comfortable with seeing homosexuality portrayed in media. 

Halfway through the movie, he turned off the sound and turned back on the subtitles.

The wine had taken the edge off, given him liquid courage. He and his therapist had discussed it. He felt like he was ready.

“Hey!” Hamilton, no Alex said. If he was going to have sex with him, then he was going to be Alex. “I was watching that.” 

Thomas kissed Alex’s neck. “Bedroom?”  
He propositioned. 

“Oh,” Alex said, and then his eyes went wide. “ _Oh._ ” 

Thomas inhaled sharply, and then he led Alex to his bedroom. He was ready. 

_Take me to church_  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life 

Thomas had never thought he would enjoy sex, but Alex let him take the lead. Thomas went slow. 

He removed his own shirt, and then he carefully unbuttoned Alex’s kissing the skin of his stomach. 

“You’re beautiful,” Thomas told him as he sucked a bruise on Alex’s collarbone. 

He listened to Alex as Alex moaned against him. 

“Thomas,” Alex breathed. It was the first time that Alex had called him by his first name. 

“Say it again,” Thomas commanded him. 

“Thomas,” Alex’s repeated as Thomas’s tongue traced lazily down Alex’s stomach. 

Thomas fingers toyed with the waistband of Alex’s jeans. He unbuttoned them, and pulled them slowly down, his fingers ghosting Alex’s thighs and then his calves. Thomas removed his own jeans quickly. 

Alex sat up and gripped the waistband if Thomas’s pants. 

“May I?” He asked. 

Thomas nodded, and Alex slowly slid down Thomas’s pants. Alex’s mouth dropped open at the sight before him. 

Thomas couldn’t help but feel self conscious. Martha had told him once that he was large, but he didn’t watch porn and didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

Alex gripped his cock, and then looked up at Thomas. 

“You okay?” Alex asked. 

Thomas nodded enthusiastically. 

“Do you mind if I…?” Alex made a motion with his mouth and then trailed off. 

“Please,” Thomas begged. He wanted, no he needed this. 

Alex took his length into his mouth and Thomas almost came then and there. Alex knew what he was doing, and Thomas tangled his hand into Alex’s hair. 

“Alex,” Thomas whispered. “Fuck, Alex.” Alex knew what he was doing. He was using his tongue and his lips and he made Thomas feel so good. Thomas felt the tightening in his cock. “I’m gonna c-“ 

Alex pulled away from him. 

“I want you inside of me,” He said. “If you’re comfortable.” 

Thomas opened his drawer and grabbed lubricant and a condom. He had prepared. Alex laid back on the bed. 

“You’re going to have to ease me into it,” Alex instructed. “You’re the biggest I’ve ever had.” 

Thomas had researched as much about queer sex as he could in preparation for this. He knew that prep was of the utmost importance to prevent tearing. He poured lube on his fingers and then slowly slipped it inside of Alex. He curled his fingers, making sure to hit the other man’s prostate. 

“Thomas,” Alex moaned. “Fuck, Thomas.” 

Thomas began to finger Alex faster, curling his line finger and watching as Alex bucked against it. 

“Another,” Alex begged. “Please.” 

Thomas obliged, and he stuck another lubed finger into Alex. He started off slow, allowing Alex a moment to adjust to the added digit. 

“Thomas, faster, please,” Alex whined. 

Thomas moved faster, and then he carefully added a third digit, working it until Alex’s hole was open and prepped for him. 

Thomas leaned down so that he was near Alex’s ear. “Are you ready?” He asked. 

Alex nodded enthusiastically. 

“I can’t hear you,” Thomas teased as he rolled the condom on his cock. He uncapped the lube again and poured it generously over his cock. 

“Yes, I’m ready. I need your big cock in me stretching me open.” 

And, _oh_ Thomas was not prepared to hear that. He pressed inside slowly, inch by inch, allowing Alex to adjust until he was fully seated inside of him. 

He waited for Alex’s permission to move. He had read about anal sex, about how tight and hot it was, but no description could compare to the feeling of being buried in your lover. 

“You can move now,” Alex choked out. 

Thomas began to move slowly, trying to find a pace. He took his already lined hand and wrapped it around Alex’s cock. 

“Thomas, Thomas!” Alex was shouting now, not caring how much noise he made. And Thomas thanked the gods that his apartment was soundproof. 

Thomas began to stroke Alex faster, encouraged by the amount of pre come that Alex was leaking. 

Thomas knew that he wasn’t going to last long. He could already feel the beginnings of his orgasm. 

Alex came first, with a grunt, his spunk splattering all over his stomach. Thomas came not thirty seconds after feeling Alex’s muscle contract. He stayed inside Alex for a moment, his cock too sensitive to move. Finally, he pulled out slowly, removed the condom, and deposited it into the trashcan by his bedside. 

That, had been incredible. 

_No masters or kings when the ritual begins  
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_

The two of them laid there curled up and hour later, having cleaned themselves and the bed with wet wipes. It wasn’t as clean as they would be with a shower, but they were both too spent to assert the extra effort. 

“I love you,” Thomas said absentmindedly. 

“Love you too,” Alex said, kissing Thomas’s neck. 

“Thank you,” Thomas responded. 

“What did I do?” Alex asked. 

“You were patient with me. You let me figure things out on my own time.” 

“That’s what a good partner does, Thomas,” Alex said. He turned so that he was facing Thomas and he stroked Thomas’s cheek. “I would never pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know. Thank you.” Thomas could not express how could it felt to finally do things on his own term, without feeling weird or wrong or different. 

“I love you,” Alex repeated. 

Thomas kissed him. “Love you too,” he yawned. 

Alex turned back around, pressing his naked body into Thomas’s the two of them fitting like puzzle pieces. 

Thomas slept better than he had in years. 

_In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_  
Only then I am human  
Only then I am clean 

Thomas awoke the the shower running. He stood and then padded to the bathroom. 

Alex was standing there, in front of the mirror, naked. 

“Mind if I join you?” Thomas asked. 

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” Alex admitted. “But you have no food, and I figured that I should shower before I went to the grocery store. Also, your shower is fancy as fuck and it took me ten minutes to figure out how to turn on the hot water.” 

Thomas grinned. “I’ll show you how to work it.” 

Both he and Alex stepped into the shower, which had plenty of room for the both of them. 

Tomas was too spent to engage in funny business, so he gave Alex a chaste kiss and then washed Alex’s hair. 

Alex helped Thomas wash his body. It was calming. It was relaxing. It was different than all the other times he had spent in the shower after sex or after masturbating, trying to wash away the guilt of not being able to have sex with his wife or the shame of masturbating to a man. 

It was different because Thomas was different. Thomas felt different. 

Thomas felt cleansed.

_Take me to church_  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Hate it? Want to leave constructive criticism? 
> 
> Please comment! I love them so much and they motivate me to keep working. 
> 
> (Also, reordering series is a massive pain in the ass).


End file.
